


Where is my mind?

by Darke_Eco_Freak



Category: Mr. Robot (TV)
Genre: M/M, nothing more than kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-22
Updated: 2015-08-22
Packaged: 2018-04-16 14:45:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4629171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darke_Eco_Freak/pseuds/Darke_Eco_Freak
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He's so tired and frustrated and sad. He just wants to give up and stop existing, just for a little while, but Tyrell Wellick's in his apartment asking to join a revolution and he has to deal with that before he can stop.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Where is my mind?

**Author's Note:**

> The first Mr. Robot fic I've done without sex and it's Tyrelliot. Interesting.

He's crazy, he's lost his fucking mind. He's cracked, like a little bird egg, and what's left of his common sense is dribbling away like the poor egg yolk. His brain is fried, worse than when he tried to save Shayla, beautiful, loyal Shayla, he barely has a brain left at this point. He wants a hit, something to take the edge off all the emotions washing over him, pain, hurt, loss, confusion, fear, anger, too much too fast.

And then there's the question of Tyrell Wellick. The former interim CTO of Evil Corp, demoted back to an executive, here in Elliot's apartment asking about fsociety which could mean various things though none of them are good. Tyrell could be about to out him just like he did various other people, he could be here to kill Elliot with his bare hands the same way he did that woman. Maybe he's even here for sex, with that glint in his eye, who can say?

"I feel wonder," Tyrell whispers, and his voice is so fucking full of awe and shock and need. The exec is too close, in his face and his space, and Elliot isn't sure whether he wants him gone or closer. He need a release, something to take the edge off and he doesn't have his morphine anymore, he can't even hack someone right now because he might fuck it up. Shit, needed something, fuck, fuck, fuck.

"And what's so wonderful about anything? The entire world is indebted to their banks and they don't give a shit, people don't even see what's wrong with their lives. They want so bad to believe their lies of a life that they ignore the truth, even when it's right in front of them," he snaps, pushing at Tyrell's chest, forcing him away. He wants to fight, to scream and curse and maybe throw a real person out of a window for a chance because newflash; the last time he just threw himself out.

Fuck, how is he even supposed to be sure Tyrell is actually here. How can he be sure that it's not just another delusion his strung out, fucked out mind made up to help deal with the last lie falling apart? Fuck, he should've taken the pills Krista prescribed, maybe he would know half of what he should and not see the men in black following him.

"But we can make them see, don't you understand Elliot? We can  ** _make_**  them see the truth, even if we have to rip off their eyelids to do it. You have that power Elliot, you can do it and I want to help you," Tyrell explains, fingers dancing along his hoodie's collar. There's something crazy in Tyrell Wellick's eyes too, they're too bright and too blue, they're crazy. Not crazy like Elliot is but it's the sort of crazy you'd see in some bible thumping preacher's eyes while condemning the sinners to hell.

And Tyrell has access to all sorts of data blocks and accounts, even if Elliot doesn't need those connections anymore. By this time tomorrow the honeypot'll be gone and the Dark Army will be ready to hold up their end of the bargain. This time tomorrow fsociety will have taken down the conglomerate of Evil and destroyed the debt of the world. He doesn't need Tyrell Wellick, but he does.

"Why should I trust you?" and that's the million dollar question, isn't it? Sure the Evil Corp exec could go to the police with this but he didn't, he came to Elliot's apartment, waiting until Darlene was gone which means he needs something. Which is really all their relationship has been about, Tyrell needing something, wanting something, from Elliot and Elliot withholding everything. From the very beginning this enigmatic man had held the upper hand, the one with all the connections and all the time in the world to wait Elliot out.

"Because I want this as much as you do, because I am willing to do anything to get what I want. And if it all falls through, at the very least I'd be an accessory to a major count of cyber terrorism." Elliot has to admit, it's a solid answer. He knows enough about this man, which isn't much at all, to know about his determination to get his way, to win. That drive alone could be useful but he needs a better reason to let Tyrell in on fsociety. He's already fucked so much up by forgetting about them, he can't bring in someone that could potentially fuck it up even more.

"You can't win loyalty and trust with pretty words, I'm not one of your Evil Corp board members that you can butter up with flattery and false promises," he states with as much coherence and conviction as his scattered mind can muster. There's a flicker of anger, a flash of hatred, across that pretty face before it's concealed by a congenial smile.

"Of course you aren't Elliot, you're so much more, so much better than them. Tell me, how do I prove myself to you?" fuck, it almost sounds like a plea, more like a member at the crazy preacher's church. The desperation, the complete devotion in Tyrell's voice is unnerving, heartening because it means he isn't half assing anything. Elliot vaguely wonders if the man remembers the subtle threats he was making not a second ago, if he would've carried through with any of them.

And he decides to take a page out of White Rose's book, the time obsessed woman at the head of the most dangerous hacker group in the world. If nothing else, that should've shown how fucked his mental state was, like seeing his dead father hadn't already.

"Three minutes, you get three minutes to prove to me why I should let you in," he declares and the countdown starts in his head, ticking back from one hundred and eighty. Tyrell's face crumples in confusion, eyebrows drawing together, mouth falling open as he processed the words. One hundred and seventy, maybe Elliot should say the time left out loud like White Rose did, it's not like he has a timer for Tyrell to gauge by.

He's opening his mouth to say one hundred and sixty-five when two hands cup his face, his cheeks, and a pair of lips collide with his. He struggles, tries to pull away, to push at Tyrell's firm chest until he's away, just away, but Elliot's not strong he can't do it. Instead the countdown continues in his head while Tyrell forces a tongue in his mouth and bites at his lips. He isn't sure whether he's counting down the seconds until he can get away or until the kiss is over and he loses this one piece of physical contact.

He doesn't want the time to be up, he wants to keep kissing Tyrell, or be kissed by Tyrell, and the thought is strange, unnerving. He doesn't like the man, does he? He doesn't know enough about him to make a real decision, logically speaking at least, but then when was the last time he used logic? He's confused again and the only way to get rid of his confusion right now is to chase it off with something else.

So he lets his fingers curl into the starched material of the light blue shirt, it's nice colour, matches the blue of Tyrell's eyes. He lets himself hold on, to pull someone just a little bit closer but not let them in, he can't let anyone in ever again. The last person he let in, let see his source code wasn't fucking real and now he wants to hit something, God emotions are so exhausting.

Wait shit, did he lose track of the time? Are the three minutes up, is Tyrell doing this just to gain his trust or to throw him off? He doesn't know, fuck he doesn't know, he wish he knew something, anything, it would be nice.

When the kiss breaks, Elliot could swear an entire era has come and gone, one he constructed and destroyed with his own hands because he feels so tired and drained. He doesn't have anything left, he wants to go to sleep and not feel but he's too tired to even do that, besides he doesn't think his mind would shut off long enough for him to drift into sleep.

"More?" Tyrell asks, voice breathy and eyes bluer than Elliot's ever seen. Elliot knows what Tyrell's offering, it's clear in his eyes, sex, Tyrell is willing to fuck Elliot stupid to get what he wants. Maybe someone else would jump at the chance to be fucked by as handsome a man as Tyrell Wellick, would take advantage of this very unique situation and never look back. Elliot most certainly isn't one of those people and he's so tired, would he even enjoy it?

"I'll show you where," he murmurs, breathing deeply, he was just so tired. He doesn't stop to examine the elation and fierce victory expressed on Tyrell's face for a brief second, he doesn't even wait for the man to follow him. He needs to move, to do something otherwise he might force shut down and never boot back up.

He can hear Tyrell behind him though, shutting his door and skipping stairs to catch up to him. He's insane, it's the only reason he can come up with for letting Tyrell into fsociety, for carrying him to the arcade. But that's okay, he know he's crazy, not like sane people hallucinated their dead father for three months and threw themselves out of windows. So, on a cosmic scale, it's all balanced off. God he's tired.


End file.
